


Just Go With It

by joufancyhuh



Series: Just Married [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Set Pre-Blitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: On a weekend trip for ice cream, a Senior Airman convinces his best friend to pose as his wife to gain better medical benefits and belay her mother's need for her daughter to get married.





	Just Go With It

**Author's Note:**

> You know when you're looking through prompts on Spec Recs and you find one that just grips you? That's what happened here. I don't know the person this is being gifted to, but their prompt grabbed me and forced me into the world of Mayson Shepard. Who is now a series. Who is also now one of my main Sheps. 
> 
> Send help. 
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> 
> [Outfits inspired by this fic.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11680206)

“Have you seen these pamphlets the Alliance sent out?”

Mayson Shepard, ice cream spoon sticking out from between her cooling lips, looked up from her omni-tool to her dining companion and long-term friend, Joker Moreau. “Why? It’s not like I can sell my soul twice, only got one of them.”

Joker cackled, shaking the table with the full weight of it. “Damn, Shepard. It’s not like your parents held you down and forced you to sign on.”

“They may as well have.” She ate another small scoop of her butter pecan chocolate fudge ripple swirl, eyes closing as she relished the deliciousness melting on her tongue. Her gaze wandered over to where Joker’s own scoop sat abandoned on the table as he scrolled through text on his omni-tool. “Are you going to eat that?”

He dragged his bowl closer to him, baring his teeth and snapping at her. “Back off, woman. Don’t make me stab you with my spoon.”

She made a show of pouting, pursing her lips as she leaned forward, spoon at ready. “You’re not going to eat all of it and I haven’t tried their triple funky monkey bubblegum blast yet.” She batted her eyelashes at him as her lips curled into a sly grin. “Just one little bite?”

He shook his head. “Your struggle doesn’t faze me. Just get it next time.” She jabbed him with a light kick under the table, smiling with triumph as he faked injury. “Hey, I need these legs.”

“Why are you looking at the pamphlets, anyway?” She turned back to her own ice cream, sighing as she stirred it around in the cup to seek out some of the chunky fudge pieces.

He shrugged, picking at his own scoop. “Curiosity. I’ve been looking for ways to increase the health benefits we get, try and improve my situation.”

“Find anything?”

“Just that married couples get five times the benefits we lowly singles do.” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m actually considering hiring someone to marry just so I don’t have that huge deductible anymore.”

Mayson chuckled as she finished off the rest of her cup. “Hell, maybe I should do it, get the ‘rents off my back.” She scrunched up her face while imitating her mother’s shrill voice. _“When are you going to meet a nice boy and bring him home? It’s cause you’re so rude, you always say such inappropriate things. You need to be nicer if you ever want a husband, darling.”_ She groaned, head hitting the table. “Fuck, I hate my Mom sometimes.”

The tip of Joker’s shoes tapped her calf as she lifted her head. “Problems again?”

“She’s on another tangent, this time about grandkids. Never mind that I’m not even dating anyone.” She sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose. “She doesn’t like the fact that I’m putting the Alliance first, keeps reminding me that she already had me at my age despite being enlisted.”

“So…” Joker ran a hand through his red hair as his brow furrows with consideration. “Maybe we should really look into this.”

She shot up in her seat. “What, get married? You’re serious?”

“You’d get your Mom off your back and I’d get better insurance.” He dipped into his ice cream cup, scanning her face for a reaction. “We’d just be married on paper, roommates otherwise. And with our separate deployments, who knows how often we’ll actually see each other.”

“And if we end up on the same assignment, what then? The charade will be hard to keep up on board.”

Joker shrugged. “We’ll deal with it if it happens.”

* * *

 

Mayson arrived at the courthouse late and a little drunk from her pre-wedding tequila shots at the local pub down the street. Her dress, a poofy short white prom dress she managed to buy on sale at the local goodwill, paired well with her black Alliance issued boots. She met Joker outside the licensing office; he sported a tuxedo t-shirt over his jeans, his hair slicked to one side. She smirked when she spotted him, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“I feel a tad overdressed.”

He cackled as he handed over the flowers, which she took with graciousness. “I appreciate you putting effort into this. The combat boots are a nice touch.”

She modeled her outfit by spinning, then touching her picked afro with small white flowers scattered throughout. “You like? I spent all of ten minutes on this.” She glanced at the closed door. “So we’re really doing this...”

“It’s not too late, though I’d have to return the rings.” He produced two plain gold bands, one for the both of them. “All of 50 credits at the local pawn shop.”

“Nice,” she grinned, plucking the smaller one from his palm and sliding it over her ring finger. It felt odd, intrusive, her unused to wearing jewelry of any kind, let alone a wedding ring. “Let’s get this over with. I told the bartender we’d be back in an hour.”

“Ah, the reception,” he chuckled as he twisted his own ring on.

Mayson scuffed the toe of her shoe on the linoleum as she stared down. “So like, are we going to have to kiss in there?”

A wild rouge lit under his cheeks. “No, it’s just paper signing, though we should appear at least somewhat happy about this.”

She stretched an uncomfortable fake smile, earning her a laugh. “So happy,” she teased through her gritted teeth. Her cheeks relaxed into an authentic grin as Joker fell into a fit beside her, gripping his stomach before clinking his crutch against the door. “Shall we then?”

“I’m not taking your last name, just so you know.” She stepped up to the sensor which slid the doors back for them.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Joker followed her inside as they approached the counter to inquire about a marriage certificate.

* * *

 

Mayson asked one of the people waiting to take a picture of them after the paperwork was signed and they were officially married. As the stranger pulled up their omni-tool, Mayson leaned in to kiss Joker’s harsh cheek, the stubble from his growing beard scratching her lips as she smiled into the camera.

The random woman shot off the email before looking up to gush at the two of them. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest couple? Congratulations!”

Mayson stepped forward shaking the woman’s hand. “Thank you, we appreciate it. I can’t wait to send that picture off to my mom.”

The woman opened her mouth to inquire about her parents, but Mayson ushered Joker out the door, shouting back a quick thanks as the two of them made their way out of the building.

She sent the image off to her Mom when they stopped in the elevator, a quick, “Wish you were here,” attached under the image along with the posted wedding announcement she created for this specific event. She flashed the message to Joker before sending it off with his nod of approval.

“Think she’ll be mad?”

“More like livid mixed with relief. Little does she know…” She giggled, closing her ‘tool and turning to face her new husband. “I can’t wait to get her reaction. Definitely one for the memories.”

Joker nudged her shoulder as the doors opened. “So Mrs. Moreau, shall we commence the reception?”

“With pleasure, Mr. Moreau,” she beamed as she slung an arm over his shoulders.

* * *

 

“Don’t think I’ll be cleaning up after you in our new place,” Mayson slurred as she sipped her fifth tequila sunrise of the night. “I’m not a fucking housekeeper, even if we are married.”

“We’re glorified roommates,” Joker responded back, his own speech uneven from the shots he took throughout the night. “I can clean up after myself, Mom.”

“Well, good,” she huffed, letting the air ease out of her puffed up chest. “I may be your wife now, but I gotta tell you, you can go fuck yourself right now if you think I’ll put up with your dirty ass.”

The bartender shot them a questionable look as he fixed a drink for another patron. She leaned toward him, batting her eyelashes as she grinned. “Newlyweds, you know?”

The bartender gave them a grin. “That explains the costumes. Next rounds on the house, guys.”

“Thanks, Dave.” Mayson flashed a grateful expression before turning back to the conversation with her new husband. “So, should we honeymoon? Go somewhere to sell it?”

Joker shook his head, enjoying his own draft beer, the head of it forming a fizzy beer mustache over his real one. “Unless you wanted to? But I deploy in a week and it’d be nice to relax around our new house.”

“I’m fine with that.” She nodded to Dave as he set a fresh round of shots in front of them. “Should we discuss hypotheticals? Like what if one of us finds someone we want to be with?”

“Trying to leave me already,” Joker tsked as the corners of his lips curled up. “Well, it was good while it lasted. A good, solid two hours.”

She shoved at his shoulder. “I said hypotheticals. What if you find someone?”

“People aren’t exactly lining up to fuck a cripple. Maybe, though there’s a very small niche for it.” He finished the rest of his drink before wiping his mouth.

“I’m not going to tell you who you can and can’t sleep with.” She stirred her straw in her drink as she stared into her glass. “I meant, what if you find someone you want to marry? Really marry?”

He shrugged as he signaled the bartender for another round. “Divorce, most likely. But again, I don’t see that happening on my side.”

She finished off the rest of her drink. “Mine, either. I just want to be thorough with this, you know? Neither of us have been married before and I don’t want to step on any toes.”

The bartender set the glasses down; Joker snatched his and raised it high. “To us and our completely legitimate marriage.”

“Totally legitimate,” she said, rolling her eyes as she clinked their glasses together. Her omni-tool chimed with a vid message from her mother. She snapped it closed, but Joker hit her arm.

“Let me see.”

“She’s going to scream, I know it. Good or bad, I’m not sure.” She hid her arm behind her back. “I’ll look at it later in private.”

Joker groaned, leaning into her side. “Come on. She’s my mother too now.”

Mayson smacked him upside the head. “Trust me, you don’t want this one. Mi madre es muy loca.”

“Crazy breeds crazy,” Joker teased as he ordered another round of shots.

“Keep this up, Moreau, and I’ll divorce your ass.” She grinned as the bartender set down two gummi bear shots.

“Marriage problems already?” The bartender paused, wiping out a glass before opening one of the beer spouts in front of him.

“This one has quite the mouth on him,” she teased, nudging Joker’s shoulder. “But what a kisser. You know, I only married him because the things he does with his tongue…” she giggled, enjoying the pinking across Joker’s and the bartender’s face. “I’m not letting this one go anytime soon.”

Joker touched her wrist. “Dear, honeybunches, I’m sure the poor man doesn’t want to listen about our sex life.”

She shrugged, plucking her shot glass off the bar. “Your loss, then.” She waited for Joker to pick his up before clinking them together and tossing the shot down the back of her throat, a resonating sweetness lingering on her tongue.

* * *

 

Both of them spent the better part of the next day hungover, only seeing each other in passing on the way to the fridge or the shared bathroom. Mayson went through a whole carton of most pulp orange juice as she spent the day in bed, sleeping or watching vids. She emailed Joker from her omni-tool when she decided she couldn’t stand to cook something in the kitchen.

“Feel like pizza?”

“No pineapples.”

“You have your half, I have mine.”

She placed the order for meat lovers, extra garlic sauce, pineapples on half, banana peppers on the other. She tore off the top of the box when it arrived, using it as a plate as she moved her half of the pizza onto it, taking Joker his half as well as a pile of napkins. She rapped on the door, calling out, “Pizza!”

“Come in,” came a weak reply.

Cautious of what she might find, she opened the door into the dark, a Joker-sized lump under a blanket on the bed. “Hey, got your half.” She made her way over to the bed and sunk down on the empty side, moving one of her hands off the bottom of the box to touch the lump. “How’re you feeling?”

“Hangovers are not fun,” he mumbled. “I forgot you have a liver of steel.”

“Hey, we made a dent into it last night.” She groaned, leaning back against his headboard. “What a honeymoon.” That earned her a soft chuckle. She grinned while she balanced the box onto his side. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

She stood, going to retrieve her own pizza half of the box before falling back into his mattress, where he now sat up and munched on a slice. “How do you feel about a Star Wars marathon?”

“Bring it on,” he grinned, peppers stuck in his teeth.

* * *

 

Their week passed in similar fashion, bingeing old scifi movies and junk food on the couch or in one of their rooms. For a roommate, he wasn’t the worst she had, and she enjoyed his company, the same as always. It felt like nothing changed between them, though the ring on her finger begged to differ.

It caught her eye sometimes in the glow of the vid screen, a sparkling reminder of their false commitment to each other.

Mayson thought they were acing this marriage thing.

But eventually, they needed to discuss the harder subjects, life wasn’t just about beer and Blasto. Joker left in two days, and while she dreamed of running around the house naked, specifics needed to be said.

He made them breakfast when she admitted she couldn’t cook bacon without burning it. Joker, with her black and yellow apron tied around his waist, stood at the stove, flipping bacon as they chatted about his deployment.

“Are you going to be here when I get back?”

She sipped her orange juice out of a pink plastic cup, remnants of some vacation she took in her early twenties, the logo of the resort stamped on the side. Most of the dishes came from her, mismatched plastic and glass pieces from her various years of stealing tableware from a restaurant, shoving it into to-go boxes or her purse so she wouldn’t need to deal with the hassle of finding the perfect dish set.

Only the pans came in a box, a gift from her father when she set out on her own. That was back when she thought she would be a universe-renown chef; she didn’t make it past the first class. And then her mother suggested the Alliance, which she regretted until Mayson’s marriage, though hurt that no one was invited to the brief ceremony.

Joker tossed her a glance over his shoulder, reminding her that she still needed to answer his question. She shrugged, running a finger over the thick rim of her cup. “I’m trying to get assigned to Elysium for my next tour, and that leaves out soon.”

The sweet, salty smell of fried pork wafted into her nostrils, her mouth watering in response. She hoped he finished soon, her stomach rumbling with the need to feed. “So, how does this marriage thing work exactly? Should we keep in touch more than we do? Send vids every day or some shit?”

“Only if they’re naughty vids.” They both laughed at that, but the bout died down quick as a serious look took over his face, as serious as he could make it anyway. “Just treat it how we did before. Once or twice a month works fine. Don’t get all clingy now that we’re married, Shepard.”

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “In your dreams, Moreau.” She cast her gaze out into the living room, taking in their empty pizza box from last night and the two video game controllers resting on top of it. “Just, email when you’re coming back, okay? I don’t want to accidentally shoot you if you try to pull something dumb and surprise me.”

“Fine.” He grabbed a plate from one of the cabinets and held it while a set of tongs rescued  the strips from the grease and laid them out for the world to behold.

She licked her lips, staring hard at the plate that came to rest by his side while he started the eggs in the grease leftover in the same pan. He snapped the tongs at her, drawing her attention away from her leering. “Anything else we need to discuss before I ship out?”

She shook her head as she slunk off the stool and approached the plate, snaking a piece of steaming bacon before the cook could stop her. “Nothing I can think of,” she muttered as she chomped down, blessed crispy salty sweet love on her tongue. She waited to finish her piece of deliciousness before continuing on. “And if we remember something else, we can deal with it. We’re adults, aren’t we?”

“That’s debatable in your case.”

She grinned up from stealing her second piece of bacon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I got a picture of my girl done! Art by [hes-per-ides](https://hes-per-ides.tumblr.com/)


End file.
